


We All Have Our Reasons

by mudkipwrites



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Angst and Romance, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Crossover, Developing Relationship, During Canon, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Movie: Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Pining, Podcast: Campaign (Star Wars), Star Wars: Rebels References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudkipwrites/pseuds/mudkipwrites
Summary: Following Zero away from the Empire and into the rebellion, a former-minister Blue finds himself stationed on Endor--and questioning his growing feelings for his best friend. Will there ever be something more between them? ((And what's up with that former Imp Captin Kallus and that rebel Lasat, Captain Orrelios?))
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Blue/Zero (Campaign Podcast)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	We All Have Our Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> This incredibly self-indulgent crossover fic scratches my current KalluZeb itch, as well as soothes my long-term craving for resolved ZeBlue. It's also something of a #swcampaignrenaissance right now...

* * *

It’s not Mandalore. And it’s certainly not Cosecant. _Kriff it, this dreary, forested moon hardly measures up to the storage hull of the Bluebird!_ Huddled beneath the protection of his camouflaged blanket, blinking irritably up at the sky, former-minister Blue shivers and decides that he unapologetically hates the rebel base on Endor. 

This comes as no real surprise.

Once the Empire’s Minister of Propaganda, once the entitled Baron of Mandalore, recently-disgraced-lord Adnau Wrengen is simply not  _ made  _ for surviving outdoors. His slim, gloved fingers are not suited to cling to the rough-barked tree branches and oddly-shaped mushrooms; his fragile, techy, blue holo-glasses are not equipped to shield off the endlessly foliage rain. 

And it’s not as though he fits in with the other  _ rebels _ on Endor. ’ __

Because as someone who had been raised among the galactic elite, sitting upon the silken lap of privilege and power, it still takes Blue  _ hours  _ to comprehend what occurs to the rest of their group naturally. He never seems to get the reference, and always seems to be one step behind. It’s an awkwardly suitable punishment, for someone who’d once thrown peers under the bus in order to get himself far ahead. 

But the days to obsess over such things are over now. 

For just as there would be no chance in _Sith-Hells_ that he would ever be here without a good reason, there is no chance in the _galaxy_ that he will _ever_ leave this dreadful moon without his best friend and former-bodyguard.

If this is where Agent Zero says that he needs to be, then this is where Blue will be as well. 

_ (After all, what kind of friend and former-employer would he be, if he were to desert his very best friend in his time of need? If Aava had the power to convince Zero that defecting from the Empire was the only right way forward, then Blue will have to come up with the will-power to stay with him for every step of the way).  _

A large, chilling puddle of water dumps down upon Blue’s thinly-veiled head. “KARABAST!” he explodes, throwing the tin cloak off his pointed shoulders. “What’s the point of suiting us up with tactical gear if it has no  _ tactics  _ in the field _?!”  _

Zero cocks his helmeted head. 

Seated on the ground, cloaked fully and effectively in his garment, Blue’s former bodyguard flashes him a pixelated smirk. “Karabast, huh?” he asks, voice light with amusement behind the dark expanse of his helmet. “All of these new, friendly rebels seem to be a bad influence. Who ya been hangin’ out with lately, Blue?” 

For his teasing words, the other man’s body is open and friendly. Defecting, and rebel life in general, seems to have been very good for Zero. At least, he  _ looks  _ good, by Blue’s estimation: rather than being stooped with exhaustion, his muscular shoulders stand tall, broad and proud. Rather than being scattered with cuts and blaster-burns from recent battles, his armored figure radiates confidence power. Even in the surrounding gloom of Endor’s rainy forest, he seems to glow with a kind of healthy vigor that Blue cannot remember ever seeing before.  _ (Perhaps, his view is just a little bit biased. But who can say? It’s not wrong to celebrate your best friend for their most attractive features, is it?)  _

Blue sniffs, crossing his long, thin arms tightly over his chest. “Ah yes,  _ of course,  _ all the socializing that I’ve been doing with our significant time  _ off  _ is to blame,” he replies. 

Yes, he’s being far too snippy to the other man: but he’s wet, and he’s _cold,_ and he doesn’t have good insulation like Zero. Blue knows that underneath all of that climate-controlled armor and wiring there’s a thick-hided gank, with layers of lovely, black and gold fur coating his warm, rippling muscles. He knows because he’s seen some of it, _felt_ some of it for himself, on those memorable occasions patching up his cybernetics.

The startling  _ softness _ of that fine fur... _ Warm _ , from the exertion of another dangerous mission…

“Hey, it’s not  _ my _ fault that you’re a real buzzkill when it comes to parties,” Zero drawls. He lifts up one arm, his organic one, to create a space underneath his waterproof blanket for another body. “Hurry up and get in here. I don’t wanna end up huddling with a drowned Loth-rat.” 

Scowling, Blue shuffles on his knees through the soaking rain. He crawls underneath Zero’s arm, and is immediately enveloped in familiar warmth. 

_ “Kriff,”  _ Zero mutters as Blue scoots close, scattering water. “Why do they even bother sending you out with me on these recon missions? You’re clearly far better off working in intelligence with all those other egg-headed nerds _. _ ” The heat of Zero’s strong, muscular arm descends around him, and Blue finds himself being pulled into the other man’s side. He shivers, both from the temperature shift and the sensation of being  _ close _ .  __

“You tell me,” Blue complains, leaning into the familiar form of his longtime protector. “Every time I try to offer my services,  _ Captain Kallus _ throws me out on my ass.” 

Zero shifts above him, hand coming to settle over the wing of Blue’s hip. His fingertips make the barest contact, hovering carefully. “Kallus, huh?” he asks, sounding thoughtful. “That other Imp defector that you read about? Thought you said that at one time he was ISB.” 

Blue huffs. “That’s right,” he agrees. “Never had the pleasure of meeting until recently. But for some reason that I cannot imagine, he doesn’t seem as though he wants to trust me.” 

Zero snorts, and Blue looks up at him. He doesn’t need to see the organic face beneath the man’s helmet to know that the other is laughing at him. “ _Unfathomable,”_ Zero says, voice thickly layered with sarcastic concern. “Who wouldn’t trust the reluctant, pushy, once _minister of_ _propaganda_ to worm their way into their intelligence office?” 

Blue glares, thinking of elbowing his friend with one of his narrow, pointy elbows. “That’s hardly fair,” he replies. “I wasn’t  _ reluctant.  _ You told me to pack up my bags, and I did.” 

“I told you to take  _ one  _ bag, and you brought  _ five,”  _ Zero corrects, sounding annoyed. “And I told you to blow up the  _ Bluebird  _ so that we couldn’t be traced from our ship, and you called it right into the main hanger. Honestly, Blue: the fact that we escaped the Empire at all is a miracle! I think Aava’s right, when it comes to all of this Force-will stuff. We’re here because it was the right thing, and we had something working to support us. Otherwise: we’d be in shackles.” His side expands, heaving in a large, heavy breath. “Or  _ dead,”  _ he amends. 

Leaning into his friend, Blue chews on his lip.  _ Not dead. Not 0ni. I wouldn’t let that happen.  _

But the fact of it is that it had, in the end, been a very close call. Too close, by any of Blue’s estimations. After all of her years of careful reflection, Aava Arek had finally made the mandatum.  _ Join me,  _ she’d asked Zero,  _ and leave the Empire. We know that this isn’t right; we know that we can do better.  _ His then-bodyguard had needed time to consider, but the release of Imperial Order 99 had sped up his decision. Suddenly, laws about anti-alien fraternization were transformed into an order to  _ kill _ ; and, using all the swiftness and power that each one had, Aava and Zero had mobilized for defection. And Blue, with a feeling of desperation and ominous dread, had joined them in their foolhardy mission. 

_ That wasn’t reluctance,  _ he thinks, pushing back on Zero’s words.  _ There was hardly even a decision. I wasn’t trying to do the right thing: I was just trying to stay close to Zero.  _

As if sensing Blue’s thoughts, Zero’s fingertips press into his waist. His former bodyguard draws closer to him, lowering his voice for the next words. “While I appreciate your loyalty, buddy,” he says quietly, “I doubt that anybody else does. Captain Kallus, from what I’ve heard, defected way back when the stakes were real high. He was so convicted, so fed up with the Empire, that he took up the codename Fulcrum _.  _ Made himself a spy on the inside, putting himself at tremendous risk so that he could support the rebellion.” 

“I _know_ what a Fulcrum is,” Blue responds sourly. It’s his only defense against the knowing look that Zero is giving him. “And I know I’m _not_ one of them.” 

“Guess it’s not so much of a mystery than after all, hmm?” Zero hums, tracing small circles where his gloved fingers rest against his exposed hip bone. And even though he has fully recovered from the soaking of cold water from before, Blue shivers. In fact, he feels as though there is sweat gathering under his narrow armpits and upon his freckled brow. 

“Doesn't matter,” Blue replies shortly. He closes his eyes, sighing against the steadiness of Zero’s frame. “Mind if I steal a quick nap? I’m  _ dying  _ without access to regular Caf.” 

This elicits a chuckle. The hand holding Blue close applies pressure more firmly. “Sure. Lemme turn on the other sensors. If it’s just me, I want to have--” but his voice is cut off by the loud, wailing noise of Blue’s handheld comm. The pair of them startle, and Zero reaches between them to grasp at the boxy, outdated thing. “Almost makes you nostalgic for the Empire,” he jokes, pressing a thick button with a gloved finger. “At the very least, access to all the finest technology--”

“--Complaining about my gear again, Agent?” the nasal voice of the intelligence master from the command center cuts through irritably. “At least I know that I got the right frequency.” 

Zero flashes a winking emoji from his fractured display screen at Blue, making him flush. ( _ He’s always praised Blue lavishly for his ability to build and slice his way through tech; but it’s still nice to know that he’s appreciated). _ “Yes, that’s right, you’ve got ZeBlue here,” his friend answers in a professional tone. “We’re at the Mountaintop outpost. What can we do for ya?” 

There is a crackle of static, and Blue rolls his eyes. Ever since 0ni had heard the rebellion’s usage of combined team-names, he hasn’t stopped calling them that. 

“ZeBlue, we’ve got some friendly arrival, and it’s a doozy. Rebellion light freighter, model VCX-100, coming in with laser damage and a burning hull. We could use some backup in case of crash landing, and the touchdown site is closest to your parameters.” Zero displays a set of surprised eyebrows. Even as the man moves to pull up schematics on his display, Blue mouths to him from memory:  _ Corellian Engineering. Combined shuttle/starfighter. Older model.  _ Zero nods, turning his attention back to the comm. “You got it, command. These are some of our own rebels, correct?” 

“Correct,” the voice answers. “Time to move, soldiers. You’ve got four minutes and counting.” 

“ _ Kriff,”  _ Blue says, lurching to the side. As Zero turns off the comm, he demands, “Why didn’t they announce it to us sooner?! It’s not like they wouldn’t be able to see a ship like that coming in hot!” As the pair of them stumble out of their makeshift shelter, he zips up his all-weather, turtlenecked suit to the top. “Really cutting it down to the last minute.” 

Zero nods, throwing his vibro-sword over his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s weird. Be on guard.” Without so much as a backwards glance at their camp, they hustle out into the rainstorm.

Unlike his office back on the second Death Star, the forests of Endor are filled with sound. Along with the huffing of their running breaths and the snapping of wet twigs underfoot, Blue can hear a full chorus of living, wild creatures. Here, the scarlet-hued wings of a lantern bird rustle to shake off the buildup of clinging moisture; there, a clamor of Ewoks chase after a hefty bordok in hopes of dinner. If he didn’t hate being so  _ cold  _ all the time, he could even grow to like all of it.

Soon, the roar of a ship’s engine drowns out all others. 

Blue looks up at the sky, seeing the molten-red underbelly of a spiralling ship drawing close with alarming swiftness. The craft is hexagonal, with signs of battle that singe along it’s yellow-striped wings. The back engine appears to have  _ exploded _ , and fire is bursting erratically out of the smooth exterior. 

Behind him, he hears Zero gather a sharp intake of breath. 

“They weren’t kidding around,” he says, crouching and lifting a hand to get a better view. “If anybody is gonna survive a crash like that, it’ll be another Force miracle.” He looks at Blue, flashing a red warning signal upon his screen. “Stay back, noodle arms, and be careful. Alright?” He rises tall, cybernetic arm shifting rapidly to re-configure into a repulsor cannon. “I’m going to try and give them some push-back against that hard landing.” 

Blue tries to argue, but Zero sweeps his transfigured arm at him and unleashes a burst.  _ (It’s on the lowest setting; regardless, the pressure of wind knocks Blue sprawling off of his feet).  _

“Well, don’t mind  _ me _ , then,” he grumbles, pushing himself up to sitting. Wetness soaks through his supposedly all-weather garment, chilling him once again to the bone. “I’ll just wait here, I suppose.” Blue shifts into a familiar posture, settling into the familiar pattern of letting Zero do the heavy lifting while he sits back and watches. As the ship approaches, he begins to notice that several of the exterior components are missing, as if the pilot had tried to slow down their descent with rough air.  _ Smart pilot,  _ he thinks, mouth quirking into a smile.  _ But not smart enough, I’m afraid. They’re all going to burn.  _

Just then, a flicker of movement catches his eye. Blue turns to see a trio of speeders coming in their direction, with what appears to be a familiar, mutton-chop clad figure at the center. 

“Captain Kallus?” he asks nobody, eyebrows raised, watching the vehicles lurch to a halt. The golden-haired man stumbles forward and breaks into a desperate run. Blue feels his eyebrows creep even  _ farther  _ up his head as he watches the man shouting something at Zero, gesturing wildly and waving his arms. “Not in his usual element, I see,” he mutters, watching the tall, serious man’s actions. “Shouldn’t he be more steady for these situations?” 

Even when he receives his answer, Blue doesn’t quite know how to receive it. 

With a scream and a fiery shudder, the VXC-100 tumbles out of the sky. It crushes into the ground, felling trees and scattering human-sized boulders. Blue shields his eyes as something explodes, and he looks around hurriedly until he spies Zero. The gank is working together with Captain Kallus to pull the door off of the ship’s wreckage, freeing the passengers on the inside. And, one of them--the one who is tall, tiger-striped and purple--throws himself out of the ship into the waiting rebel’s arms. 

Blue gapes, wide-eyed and blushing, as the alien clasps Kallus’ face between his massive, clawed and firmly  _ kisses  _ it. 

With a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, Blue rises and gets to his feet.  _ Ah,  _ he thinks, unsure of why his heart is racing inside of his chest, of why his throat is tightening and his breath restricted.  _ So it’s like that. He’s dating the alien man.  _ When Blue sneaks another look back at the shuttle, he can see that several more people have been safely extracted from the burning wreckage--and that Captain Kallus is  _ still _ wrapped in the tight, fierce embrace, mouthing the other man as though  _ this  _ is the situation that’s desperate. 

“Er,” he says, drawing close to the assorted group by where Zero is standing. “That was.  _ Quite  _ a landing, there, Captain.  _ Most impressive, _ how you handled that ship. You know, I can fly, too.” 

The green-skinned Twi’lek woman looks at him sharply. She is beautiful; and Blue gets the feeling that she could fall him with a singular punch, even with that short stature. “ _ General,”  _ she corrects him. “It’s General Syndulla. And, yes...” she looks over her shoulder, mouth pinching with sadness, “..the  _ Ghost  _ is-- _ was-- _ my best friend.” She shakes her head, eyes filled with regret. “I’ve had that ship longer than I’ve been a rebel. It won’t be right, losing them.” 

Blue’s brow wrinkles with confusion, just as Zero proclaims, “Nah, we can fix it!” He also leans in, throwing an arm around him. “ _ And YOU CAN’T FLY,”  _ he hisses. “ _ They kicked you out.”  _

In spite of the closeness and affection, Blue pouts and crosses his arms.  _ (It’s not his fault that all of the judges at Flight School failed him. What do they know, anyway?! He’s Adnau Wrengen! A genius, the youngest-ever Minister of Propaganda! If they know of his notoriety on the holo-net, they’d never--)  _

The sound of footfalls snags his attention, and Blue looks over to see Captain Kallus. 

The man is smiling.  _ Radiantly,  _ as he’s never seen him before. His large, freckled hand is entwined with the taller man’s furred, purple-striped one; and Blue cannot help but notice the way that the alien’s claws rest over the skin, tracing gentle circles over soft, exposed skin. “Agent Zero. Adnau.” he nods at them, attempting at professionalism. It doesn’t quite work; the man’s golden eyes are shining with tears, and his fair skin is flushed pink as his kiss-swollen lips. “I appreciate you coming to the Spectres’ aid. Thank you for picking up the distress call.” 

Blue’s eyes linger over the alien man. 

The tallest ‘spectre’ is more height, meat and bones than even Zero.  _ Lasat,  _ some archive in the back of his brain whispers.  _ From the occupied planet of Lasan. Predator; dangerous; T-7 ions required.  _ As the stream of information unfolds, it occurs to him that very few of his race must be left. This, obviously, a pity: from the hulking biceps to the handsome, smart stripes, the unmatched power and pride of this species would be a true force to be reckoned with. 

Around his shoulder, Zero’s clawed fingers stiffen. 

“Captain Kallus!” he greets, voice cheerful and friendly in tone. Of course, Blue _knows_ better: he can practically feel the threatening growl rumbling out from within the gank’s chest, can _smell_ the musk of his competitive edge rising. “And who’s your boyfriend? Don’t think that we’ve had the chance to meet yet. 

To Blue’s surprise, Kallus blushes and looks shyly away. To even  _ more  _ of his surprise, the alien man extends a four-fingered hand, ears quivering with humor and interest. 

“Garazeb Orrelios,” he rumbles, voice equally friendly in its gravely baritone. “But you can just call me Zeb.” He grips on to Zero’s free hand, shaking it firmly. “And it’s a pleasure to meet the two of ya. It’s not often that I get to meet someone so much like myself.” 

Blue looks at Zero, who he knows would be projecting wild question marks under other circumstances. “So much like yourself?” his friend asks, friendly but uncertain. 

“Well, yeah!” Zeb laughs, light from the still-burning  _ Ghost  _ flickering off of his long canine teeth. “Not a lot of us, are they? Alien rebels, catchin’ ourselves a handsome, Imperial man.” He lifts his fingers, still laced with Kallus, and kisses the top of their joined knuckles softly. “Not the easiest life, but the heart wants what it wants, right?” 

If a strong wind rolled through, Blue would be knocked over. 

_ Alien. Rebel. Imperial. Boyfriend.  _

Feeling his heart rocket to an incredible pace, Blue feels his face flush, his breath snag in his tight chest. Not only had Zeb picked up on the fact that Zero is a gank--a fact that he silently protects and hides away from others, with nearly the intensity that Blue seeks out answers--he’d picked up on the flickering ache of pining that he’d always had for his friend.  _ “The heart wants what it wants,”  _ Aava Arek had said wisely during one  _ Bluebird _ debriefing. And here,  _ now,  _ in this very strange place, this pecularman has the  _ audacity _ to say that the pair of them are something similar. 

Next to him, Zero releases a shaky laugh. It’s tight, and he can hear the strangeness of it. 

“Yeah, go figure, huh?” he says, voice pitched much higher than normal. “So, like,  _ what _ , were you  _ also _ some kind of mercenary before you joined up, or something?” Blue’s head is spinning, but he can still tell that these aren’t well-received words: both Zeb and Kallus scowl, as though there is some sort of terrible story between them. “Oh, maybe not, then?” 

“Not so much,” Zeb growls. His tone is angry, and Blue feels Zero’s grip tighten protectively around him. “But at one time, I was an Honor Guardsman.” 

Blue sways on the spot as he hears Zero chatter, “No kidding! So you  _ are _ from Lasan. That’s pretty cool, man.” There is a long silence and Zero tenses, adding on, “Uh, not like, what the Empire did there! I mean, the fact that you were on the Guard! Pretty solid, man.” 

Something more amiable settles between them. 

_ Posturing,  _ Blue sighs inwardly, rolling his eyes. He’s only interested when  _ he’s _ doing it. It’s unusual for Zero to grovel, but apparently, he is feeling outmatched right now. Bored, Blue almost relaxes enough to fall back into the routine of blatantly ignoring the conversation as he leans against Zero; that is, until he catches the eyes of Kallus staring at him, thoughtful and golden. 

“Mind if we have a minute?” the captain asks.

The others stop talking. Zero briefly flashes him a warning signal, but Blue, feeling uncertain, shakes in disagreement.  _ I’m fine. We’re not in danger.  _ Nodding at Kallus, he follows the other man a few paces away from where the alien men are talking. Against the shadows of falling night, the  _ Ghost  _ is steaming into the rain. It’s battered and bruised, to be sure--but it’s nothing that Blue hasn’t fixed up before.  _ (They have no idea who they are dealing with; I practically invented re-constructive cybernetics).  _ In a swell of pride, he looks back at Zero. 

And catches Kallus looking at him. 

“I must apologize,” the captain says, his elegant voice rich and low in the dark. “I believe that I have fundamentally misunderstood you, Adnau. It might be, in fact, that we are far more similar than I supposed in the first place.” 

Blue scowls and chews at his lip. “ _ Blue,”  _ he says, correcting the man. “Nobody calls me Adnau.” 

“Nobody calls me Alexsandr,” Kallus agrees, folding his arms politely behind his back. “My apologies for that as well, Blue. I resolve to do better.” It’s infuriating, really: the posh, handsome man, standing there before him like he’s got his whole world put together.  _ Fulcrum:  _ the one who had defected out of sheer desire for justice _ ,  _ and had just so  _ happened  _ to become lovers with his best friend. 

He finds his fingers biting into the soft flesh of his hand. 

“I know that you are aware of my hesitation to trust you,” Kallus sighs, “And I know personally how challenging that such treatment can be. For inflicting that upon you, I was mistaken.” He looks back at Blue, gaze intense with controlled passion. “I did not understand that you also defected out of love. I thought that you, a high-ranking official, had simply gone along with the tide when your closest agents deserted their positions.” 

Blue is equal parts shocked and embarrassed. In any case, he feels totally humiliated. 

“Well, thanks for that,” he replies, trying to keep the fear flooding into his veins out from his voice. “It’s always nice to know that you’ve been talked about and misjudged. But at least you have the ‘nads to say something to me. You could’ve just realized that you were wrong, and kept going.”  _ Keep talking,  _ he thinks to himself.  _ Keep distracting yourself. Otherwise, you’re going to have to deal with what it is that he said. You’re going to have to deal with-- _

“How long did you know?” Kallus asks. “How long was it that before you realized that you were in love with him, and that you had to leave?” 

The spinning has come back to Blue’s head. He huffs, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. “Didn’t let myself think about it,” he mutters, watching the way that Zero is testing the warp and width of his vibro-sword against Zeb’s bo-rifle. “ _ Still  _ don’t let myself think about it, really. Your boyfriend really lept into a few dangerous assumptions.” 

To his surprise, Kallus’ lips flicker with the faintest smile. “He does that,” the captain says fondly, turning to look at their partners again.

Something twists, fierce and longing, inside of Blue’s gut as he watches the open expression of his clear affection. _Could we really be like that?_ He wonders, thinking of himself curled up against Zero’s warm shoulder. Not just as a way to get out of the rain, but: purposeful. Caring _._ _Is there some kind of future in which 0ni and I...could somehow, possibly, be...together?_

There is a crackle of brilliantly-purple energy, and both Captain Kallus and former-minister Blue startle. Zero, it appears, is testing out the functionality of Zeb’s bo-rifle.

“Er, I better go,” Blue says, cringing with the awkwardness of his departure. “Ah, thanks for sharing that with me, Captain. I’m relieved to know that we can work together.” He watches the other man smile, a true and genuine friendliness this time, and nod at him as he walks away.  _ Karabast,  _ he thinks, kicking at the wet grass while approaching Zero.  _ If I could be  _ **_half_ ** _ the man that Fulcrum thinks I am… _

When he arrives, the aliens are sparring. 

Both of them seem to be highly enjoying the rough sport of it. Zeb’s jumpsuit, still burned from the crash, is hanging off of one shoulder; Zero’s vibro-sword, disarmed, is thrown off to the side, and he’s battling this one hand-to-hand. 

“Zero?” Blue asks, ward off a shower of sparks. “Didn’t we come here to deliver  _ aid  _ to this man and his crew?” 

Garazeb Orrelios laughs, and the sound of it rumbles and rolls all around them. “Karabast!” he chuckles, grinning and leaning upon his extended rifle-staff. “Guess we  _ did  _ get a little bit carried away. Hera went back with the others--nobody’s hurt, thank the Ashla--but I thought that we’d best wait up fer the two of ya.” 

Hearing the word on the Lasat’s voice, Blue and Zero turn to look at each other. Blue can tell, and not just from the emoji that he’s displaying, that the other man is amused. 

“Thanks for that,” Kallus says. He walks up to Zeb, opening his arms. “And I think we’re finally ready to get out of the rain. Let’s head back to base?” the former Imperial man is enfolded into the large, fuzzy arms of his boyfriend. He sighs, leaning into Zeb’s chest. “Besides. I won’t be convinced that you’re  _ actually  _ fine until a medical droid has given you the once-over. For all I know, you’re brawling on an adrenaline-induced concussion right now.” 

Blue smiles as Zeb extends his hands, holding Kallus out at arms’ length. 

“M’  _ fine,”  _ he laughs, kissing the human man on the forehead. “We’re fine! We’re all just  _ fine.  _ Yeah, let’s get back to base; I wanna hear more about this gank’s life as a bounty hunter. Didja know that this one  _ hired him  _ back in the day? Wanted him as a personal bodyguard?” Zeb throws a finger over his shoulder at Blue. “Kriff! Can’t believe he didn’t figure it out sooner. What kinda minister even  _ needs  _ a bodyguard? It’s too obvious!” 

Blue’s face is  _ flaming  _ as Zero looks back at him. The screen is his usual dark and unreadable mask; but Blue gets the distinct sense that he is smiling. 

“Yeah, it  _ was  _ pretty blatant,” his best friend replies. He gazes at Blue, who feels his fingertips buzzing, who feels his heart thundering inside of his chest. “Looking back on it now, it’s some kind of miracle of the Force that we circled around each other as long as we did.” Pulse  _ pounding _ , head spinning with  _ delirious _ pleasure, Blue gazes steadily back at him. 

“Minister of Propaganda,” he croaks. “Telling obvious lies was my j-job.”

As Kallus and Zeb make their way back to their waiting speeder, and as Blue and Zero wave them off back at their crumpled tent, he can feel something blooming inside him. In spite of the cold, heavy waves of the forest, in spite of the sodden clothes that cling to his skin, Blue can feel something  _ warm _ inside of his chest: unfolding, with every thrum of his beating heart. 

And, when they turn back to base, Zero reaches out to take hold of his hand. 

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have time, can you share a comment or kudos? It's the kind of feedback and support that keeps me writing. Thanks for considering!


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